Codes of Behavior
by LeopardPrintandTattoos
Summary: Desiree Sterling has lived her whole life in the gritty world of outlaw motorcycle clubs, but nothing prepared her for the Sons of Anarchy. Thrown into the world of the Reaper Crew this girl is downright blind sided. But this girl is tough and won't let anyone push her around for long. Desi's got a few secrets of her own up her sleeve. [Jax Teller/OC]


Desiree Sterling peeled open mascara covered false lashes, her head pounding and her mouth filled with what tasted like dust and vomit. Groaning she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, she still wore her ripped to shreds black tee shirt and white denim shorts with the suede black thigh high boots. Desi fumbled around, fingers searching for anything remotely close to something to cover her eyes with. The lights were making her aching skull feel like it was being cracked open. She felt her stomach pitch and roil; forcing a groan from her lips as she laid back down on the soft bed she'd been passed out cold in. Desi wasn't sure which was worse, the fact she had no idea where she was, or the fact that she felt like a sulking, dying cow.

Desi rolled from the bed, wobbling slightly as her feet hit the carpet; her heels were making walking much more difficult than it should be. She was extremely hungover, drugged or still drunk. Or maybe it was a combination of all three. Grabbing a pair of black square-ish sunglasses she slipped them on her face. The sunglasses were by far too big, but they were efficient in blocking out all sunlight. Her long blonde hair was disarrayed and looked more like sex hair than just bed head. Though, judging from the fact that she was still fully dressed she hadn't had sex with anyone. Slipping her feet out of the black heeled boots she wore she padded barefoot out of the bedroom and through the clubhouse in god only knows where. Finding the bathroom Desi gathered her hair over one shoulder and stuck her head under the faucet of the sink and rinsed her mouth out before swishing it around and spitting it back into the sink. Mouth wash would be ideal but water would have to do since she wasn't sticking around god only knows where, though she was still in California, thank god.

Pulling her boots back on once she was out of the, most likely illegal establishment, Desi started walking down the street. Heels clicking on the pavement beneath her feet, necklace dangling and bouncing against her sternum with each step she took, the small silver skull paid homage to what she did for at least part of her living. Pulling the black hair tie off her wrist she threw her long blonde hair up into a messy pony tail. The black tee shirt she wore had been sliced into almost nothing. The bottom half of the shirt was missing, completely cut off, while the neck and most of the shoulders was gone as well. Showing an indecent amount of skin for a day time walk, she was sure she looked like a hooker. Multiple bracelets wrapped around her right wrist, a thin studded leather band wound around her wrist as small charms dangled from it. A key, a heart, a small bird and a cross all hung from the leather band. A set of silver bangles dangled a bit above the leather band that wrapped six times around her wrist. Hiding the tattoo 'Retribution' that mirrored the 'Revenge' tattoo on the inside of her left wrist.

Desi was a walking contradiction, seemingly shy but outgoing and confident with herself and her body. A sinner and a saint, the shy girl in the back of the class and the sexual deviant waiting to come out and take control. Reaching up under the borrowed sunglasses Desi wiped at the undersides of her eyes, pulling her fingers away to find black eyeliner, mascara and probably eye shadow. She let a small yawn pass her lips as she wiped the black makeup off her slim delicate fingers using the black tee shirt as a rag. Desi pulled the glasses she'd 'commandeered' and looked at her reflection in the mirrored lenses. Last night's smoky eye had turned into this mornings 'dead hooker in an alley way.' The blonde rolled her eyes and shoved the glasses back on her face. She walked until she found Raven's Eye. The bar she owned and that her step-father bought for her. Black lacquered nails tipped long delicate fingers that splayed against the door and pushed it open with a steady force, allowing her into the smoky establishment.

The name for the bar had come from Desi's own nick name 'Ravyn'. The blonde haired girl, for looking like nothing and weighing a buck and a quarter soaking wet, was death for those that pissed her off or did something she didn't like. The black raven spread across her upper back and had its wings spread across her shoulder blades, the tips of its wings resting on the caps of her shoulders, when her arms moved so did the bird. Giving it that 'in flight' quality, the leopard print that was wrapping around her right ankle and winding up the back of her calf was a sharp contrast to the rosary on her left ankle. Desi's heels clicked as she walked across the wooden floors of the 'biker bar' establishment she ran and worked in. The blonde preferred to be 'hands on' in all things she did, which included her work. She'd drawn up most of her tattoos, cut up pretty much all of her own clothing and took down her own bad guys.

Desi worked alone, and many would think that because of that she was an assassin, but no, she had her team, they just worked more behind the scenes than alongside her. Though occasionally one of them would be stubborn enough and force their way into her mission. Though rarely did that happen as she wasn't going to endanger the members of her team that had something to live for. All Desi had was her bar and a stray cat that she only saw every once and a while. She preferred it that way though sometimes she got lonely and wouldn't mind the human company; which is usually when she went out, found a guy, and satisfied the itch that was in need of scratching. That was if and when she could find the time to do so. Desi grabbed the backpack she'd stuffed behind the bar last night and slung it on top of the bar stool next to her. Pulling the black leather motorcycle jacket from the back of the bar as well she slipped it over her arms and torso. Zipping the front up leaving the raven on the back visible as she turned her pony tail into a messy bun, grabbing the helmet from where it sat on the shelf under the bar Desi tucked it under her arm as she slung the backpack over her shoulder.

Pulling the keys for her bike out of the backpack's side pocket she walked over and strapped the black bag to the tank of the bike where a holder was situated for the bag, slinging one long lean leg over the side of the bike she straightened it and flipped the kickstand up. Firing the bike up Desi sighed happily at the purr her engine made in response. Giving the bike a soft push she hit the gas and let her black boot covered feet slip onto the foot pegs. The Suzuki GSX-R 750 roared under her as she pumped the gas and leaned low over her gas tank. The black raven painted on the red and black bike, sleek and shiny contrasted with the black matte helmet she wore. Smoked out and mirrored visor hid her face completely from passersby. Desi liked her privacy, but she [i]was[/i] a walking contradiction.

Pulling up to her own apartment Desi yawned softly and parked the bike in the cross walk, this way no one would hit it. That and she always knew where to find it. She pulled the helmet off and slipped the aviators from the front pocket of her jacket slipping them back over her eyes. She doubted that they would ever return to their previous owner so…they were now hers. Climbing the steps to her two bedroom apartment the blonde fumbled with the keys slightly as her headache came back full force. Shoving the door to her apartment open she slipped inside quickly and shut the wooden door leaning against it, the dark wood cool against her bare skin. Pulling the black boots off she padded into her kitchen grabbing some Aleve and a bottle of water before b-lining it for her bedroom. Swallowing the pills with a couple mouthfuls of water Desi fell face first into her bed. Groaning when she realized she was still, for the most part, fully dressed. Stripping out of the white denim shorts and the tee she was left in her leopard print bra and black thong. Reaching one hand over the side of her queen sized bed she found a tank top and pulled it on before stripping the bra off and cuddling under the sheets.


End file.
